


Thanksgiving

by fichuntie



Series: Steve and tony mit era [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12826257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fichuntie/pseuds/fichuntie
Summary: Tony's dreading returning to Obadiah for the holidays.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fluff follows angst

Tony knows he’s irritating Steve. He knows he’s irritating full stop. He’s never had friends before college (at least that weren’t bought) and even then half of them are Steve’s. Steve’s got the patience of a saint, but Tony has irritated his only father figure to gray hair doing less. He’s been alternating between locking himself into a box of music and metal or clinging to Steve in a drunken haze. Even Tony’s getting whiplash and he’s apparently the one calling the shots. (And he’s called for a lot of shots over the month of November.) He’s been so irritating that he hasn’t been foisting himself on the outside world, not his classmates or his professors. He knows they wouldn’t have the old school catholic boy patience that Steve seems to have mastered. Worse yet, he wouldn’t want the news to get back to Obadiah. Rhodes has sent him texts about skipping class. Rhodes had started worried and tapered off when Tony finally let Jarvis respond on his behalf. Tony knew they cared, okay. He knew that. Rhodes was sending him scanned notes, respectful of the distance. His professors had even sent him little notes attached to his assignments as he turned them in remotely, just asking how he was. Steve patiently tolerated the loud laughter in his ear when Tony ranted drunken nonsense and avoided class. But Tony wasn’t stopping. He couldn’t.

See, he had to go back and see Obadiah for Thanksgiving and the holiday season. And he knew it, not just with his oversize brain. He knew it down in his guts. He knew that it wasn’t going to be good. They had a horrible routine of a corporate gift being exchanged before a formal dinner and formal dressing down in Obadiah’s mansion. Then there’d be some kind of press release and announcement about sales from Black Friday. Yes, it was going to be for the holiday and yes there would be more comfort food splayed out in a ridiculous marble counter than any two adult men could handle. But there would also be the media he’d forgotten about, tailing him around the city in a way they’d been forbidden in Boston. Obadiah was sure to bring up Tony’s new focus on research and pet projects rather than deliverables and profit. And as always there was sure to be the specter of Howard over it all: the long silence where his father didn’t give grace and the tight grip of his mother’s hand as she steered him away from Howard’s office as the last Thanksgiving candles were put out by maids. Howard was always haunting over it all like some Rockwell painting Steve could name with an overlay of disappointment and alcohol.

So yeah, Tony was enjoying the tail end of November in his own way. He’s banging out a CAD design to the beat of Suicidal Tendencies when he hears something that isn’t just the thump or scream of his music. 

It’s Steve apparently. He’s wrapped up in his hoodies and over starched pants. (Tony still hasn’t found where Steve keeps the starch and ironing board squirreled away in the apartment. He’d burn it if he could.) He’s even got one of his smaller sketchbooks, fiddling with the wire binding. 

“Sorry, I know I’m bothering you. Just…” Steve manages before Tony’s even got the music volume all the way down

“It’s not like I haven’t bothered you plenty,” Tony laughs, saving his progress and swiveling around his chair to catch all of Steve in the doorframe.

“You said … I thought if you had time, I could sketch you for a bit. I know you’re heading off for the holiday, and New York isn’t as far, but I am too. “

Tony scoffs, “Of course. And I wasn’t joking about letting you use the plane.”

Steve smiles, bashful, like he hadn’t freaked out when Tony first made the offer. Sometimes Tony forgets that private planes and personal travel routes weren’t par for the course. But he knows that a big guy like Steve isn’t going to be traveling comfortably on Spirit airlines or a Megabus.


	2. Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve does his best to help Tony with his holiday stress

Tony didn’t think that being sketched would be like this. Steve already warned him off trying to sit completely still. Steve set up all the lights, moving designer lamps to locations the decorator had never intended and even hunting for an extra table lamp. He even shows Tony little squares of his sketch, sliding aside the scrap paper that has the graphite imprint of the heel of his hand. Each time Steve shows him, he puts the sketchbook really close to Tony’s nose and looks up at Tony from under his lashes, looking proud between the sketches and his friend, before dragging himself back to the other side of the room. Tony doesn’t quite get what each fragment of a face means aside from the way he can see a bit of himself in them. After days of running away from himself, its weird to see his face, a little haggard and tired. Weirder to know that Steve looks close enough to catch it all. 

 

“How long is this going to take, Steve?”

 

“Mmmm,” Steve shrugs a bit as he retreats back to his spot on the couch. “Getting a good feel, maybe a few hours?”

 

Getting a good feel? Tony hasn’t had a good feel from good company in a while, much less a good feel for Steve ever. He’s barely having good feelings with Obadiah looming over his head. And this is not the holiday spirit, not even a little. 

 

“And I can’t have a beer or anything that whole time?” Tony crosses his arms. 

 

There’s another shrug. “I figured we could talk. You know Rhodes has even stopped by, right?” Watching Steve in the low light of the living room is strange. It makes his shoulders look broader and catches on the blue of his eyes. Tony finds it way more intriguing than corners of his own face. 

 

“Of course. I texted him.” Well, Jarvis texted him. Details. “I’m fine. He knows I’m fine.”

 

“You know, Barnes and I go up to our moms’ graves this time of year. New York city can be small that way, that both of us can go the same place to get flowers and all that before hand,” Steve is very concentrated on some cross-hatching. 

 

“No, Stevie, I … I didn’t know,” Tony sighs. He really wants that beer. Or maybe one of those blow ups of a mock up, something to navigate this. 

 

“And then after we get pie from this bodega. Neither of us want home cooked, just doesn’t seem right,” Steve pauses. Erases a little bit before continuing, “I’m sure there’s enough pie in the bodega for another person, if you wanted that.”

 

“I can’t. That’s your thing with Barnes and you know I have to see Obadiah,” Tony sighs. This isn’t what he thought being sketched would be like. 

 

“No, I don’t know that! It’s making you unhappier that I’ve ever seen you. If you’ve been dreading it for weeks then I don’t see why you have to go. Kids go to their friends for holidays all the time,” Steve shoves the sketchbook aside. 

 

“I’m not just some kid. I’m the heir of Stark Industries. I have responsibilities, Steve, and making a show in California is one of those. Not to mention how long its been since I last saw Obadiah.” Tony sighs. He hates bringing the differences between them up, making the otherwise cozy moment stressed. 

 

“And how long since he made an effort to see you?” Steve reaches out to Tony, grabbing his tense hands, “I didn’t see him at the expo or at the 007 robot competition. Rhodes, Sam, and I were there. Even that assistant woman was there. Some of the press was there. When does he offer to come to see you? Or even skype!” Suddenly Steve is in his face, trapping him against the back of the couch, “He pawns that off on the assistant who came to see you compete. You don’t owe him this, this weeks of being upset.” Steve grabs his bicep, squeezing like he can make Tony hold still and listen to something Steve knows nothing about. 

 

“He’s my family!” Tony breaks his hold and pushes past him to get off the couch, except Steve doesn’t let up, doesn’t let Tony up. They’re practically nose to nose, and Tony’s heaving. “He would come up more if he wasn’t so busy with Stark Industries which he does for me. I can’t ask him to do more! There’s nothing more to do!” Steve’s caught in the light he set up to catch Tony’s expressions. All Tony can see is Steve’s big blue eyes and confused brow. 

 

“But I’d do anything for you! And it’s not a lot to do this, not for you. I want you there.” Steve’s hand flexes on Tony’s shoulder and he seems unaware that he’s holding so tightly. Steve’s got color high on his cheeks, bringing out his eyes even more and the hint of plea in his face. “Didn’t I say I wanted to, that I’d always want to help you?”


End file.
